


Humiliation

by Builder



Series: Whoa Bessie [20]
Category: Captain America, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety, Bullying, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 18:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21201938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: Contribution for Whumptober 2019 Day 25





	Humiliation

They’re sitting at the bar at Applebees when it happens. It starts so quickly that Steve doesn’t see the genesis exactly, but it becomes clear once it all plays out. 

There’s a group of high-schoolers are sitting at three tables pushed together, some science Olympiad or drama club or something or other. An androgynous teen with an overgrown shag and skinny jeans stands up and heads in the direction of the bathrooms. 

“Where do you think you’re going, punk? They check IDs at the door, ya know.” A slightly older-looking boy with a buzz cut grins maliciously. 

“Yeah, Taylor, it’s all urinals in there,” somebody else chimes in.

The first kid clenches their fists. “I told you. It’s Tyler now. And I’ll wait for the stall.”

“Only babies wait for the stall.” Most of the table erupts in laughter.

Steve feels his face go red. He’s 34, and he waits for the stall. “What the literal fuck?” He mutters. Times are supposed to have changed since he was in school. A flash of memory takes him back to a face full of dirty tile, of James dragging him outside, reminding him to—

“Breathe,” James says, placing his hand high on Steve’s back.

Steve takes a shallow inhale. “No, I’ve gotta— I have to fix this.” He uses the bar to shove himself to his feet and walks angrily to the back of the restaurant. 

“Go, bud,” he says to Tyler, opening the bathroom door for him, then glaring over his shoulder at the table of hecklers. Steve sizes them up, and he puts himself at roughly the same height and weight as the largest of them. He can take them if need be. 

He stands guard with his arms crossed over his chest until Tyler’s finished, then walks two paces behind them like a bodyguard as the kid returns to their table. 

“You ok here?” Steve checks in. It would be inappropriate to invite an adolescent to drink with him and James, but it seems worse to just leave them with these obvious non-friends. Steve wonders if he should offer the kid a ride home, or if that would be too forward. He tries to remember what the stance on stranger danger is these days.

“‘M fine.” Tyler looks at their shoes.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, if anyone else gives you any trouble, my boyfriend and I are right up there, ok?” Steve points to James, who waves politely.

“Ok.” Tyler waves back and slips back into their seat.

“Ok,” Steve sighs. “Well, see ya around, I guess.” He steals a single glance over his shoulder as he makes his way back to the bar.

“That was nice of you,” James says, taking Steve’s hand as soon as he sits.

“Nice doesn’t have anything to do with it.” James’s warm palm feels soothing against Steve’s hot, clammy one. “I just, I had to, Buck. You know I had to.”

James nods understandingly.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about that one time you pulled me off the bathroom floor, and I just, I couldn’t bear to see it happen to another kid. Not now. Not today.”

“You did good.”

James’s words are soothing, but they don’t quieten the anger bubbling away in Steve’s gut. “I can’t believe we still live in a world where this shit goes on!”

“Do you want to go? We can, I don’t know, do a breathing exercise in the car or something,” James offers.

Steve presses his lips together. “That’s… that’s a really good idea, Buck. But I don’t want to leave before they do.” He jerks his head toward the tables of kids.

James gives him half a smile. “Yeah, I kinda figured. Guess that means we’re ordering dessert?”

“You don’t like dessert.”

“Exactly. Dessert for you.” James’s face breaks into a full grin.

“What’re you gonna get out of it, though?” Steve asks.

“You look cute when you eat ice cream. And maybe I’ll get mine when we get home.” James’s eyes give a playful glimmer.

“Hey.” Steve elbows him. “Careful. There are children present.”

“Eh, not exactly what I’d call children,” James says. “I mean, if they’re capable of that kind of harassment, I think they can take a little healthy flirtation.”

“‘Healthy flirtation?’ Is that what you call that?” Steve laughs. “I think you’ve been borrowing my therapist hat.”

“I think I’m gonna have to give it back, ‘cause it doesn’t fit all that well.” James mimes taking off a cap and jamming it, backward, on Steve’s head instead.

Steve turns the imaginary hat to front-facing. “You know what?” He asks.

“What?”

“I love you. No matter what you do or say or what hat you wanna try to put on.”

“I love you, too. No matter how many stray kids you try to pick up and bring home.” They both laugh.

“No, this is good,” Steve says. “Look at us, we’re on a date that could’ve been a disaster, and now we’re talking. Joking, even.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a good life, you know? The one I got with you?”

“Oh, I know,” James replies. “I feel exactly the same way.”


End file.
